So tired, so very very tired. Life has become a flurry of running around in my undies, helping elderly ladies to find garters and girdles and god knows what else, feeling unendingly frustrated with the genreal public and wearing the same clothes for one too many days on the trot. Without a good explanation all of this information would cause me to come across as a rather unseemly lass. But fear not, these woes spring from the following: working at M&S (garters, girdles and frustration; explained), taking part in What The Butler Saw (undies; explained) and living between homes (smelly Sian; explained). As much as I love love love spending so much time with the handsome Mr F (who is currently, and slightly unhandsomely, adorned with a 70's pornstar tashe HA) I do miss my own bed. Although, having said that, midnight cuddles are pretty much an irreplaceable pleasure.
So tonight, I am happy to say, my head will sleep soundly on it's own pillow. And tomorrow morning I will wake up on the day of the start of my chuffing birthday morning. What joy.
